Trusting Him and Letting Go

     I stood in the sanctuary this morning with tears rolling down my face as I sung, well maybe blubbered out the words, "Step by step, You lead me, and I will follow You all of my days. Oh God, You are my God, and I will follow you..." I remember the first time that I heard this song, as a seventeen-year-old new believer, sitting in a Lutheran service. I remember the words speak to me. Following God is what I wanted with my life, nothing more and nothing less. It seems that since then, my walk with Him has taken many turns, climbed many hills, and trudged through many forsaken and barren lands. Through this, the only thing that has remained constant, His love for me. Not my desire to always put Him first, but His unfailing love and ever open arms.

     Today, standing in the sanctuary, my tears readily fell as my arms were outstretched to Him. I meant the words I uttered. For the first time in a long time, I knew that I was where He wanted me to be, and together we were about to embark on an amazing journey. For seventeen years, I have taught children. I started with preschool, went to kindergarten, then to special ed. where I have taught every grade, except kindergarten! I believe it is probably a good estimate to say in the last 17 years, more than 300 students have passed through my classroom. At first, that didn't sound like many, but then I began to think. After my first two years of teaching, the most students I had at one time was 16 due to location or because of special education laws. Many of these children, I have loved like my own. Some I have "raised" in my classroom due to somehow being their teacher for multiple years... One in particular, I got in first grade and had him every year until he was a sophomore.

    Some stop by my house, to grab a quick bite or a can of soda, some email asking for tutoring, or just to ask me to come to their football games to support them. I have received graduation announcements, shown pictures of their children, and been asked if they could crash on the couch. I have bought coats, shoes, clothes, food, school supplies, personal hygiene supplies, and so much more. I have learned family names, been invited to family functions,and been supported by these wonderful families when my oldest child died. These families, were there for me when I couldn't be there for them. To me, teaching was never my job nor my profession; it was my passion, my life; but even more, it was my mission. This is what God had called me to do. He didn't call me just to teach, but to work with children and share His love for each of them: to teach them, love them, and to guide them.

     Now, God has opened a door, not just for me, but for my family, and we are very excited. At first, I thought I could manage both jobs, but in reality I have felt that my time in a classroom was soon coming to an end. I knew I was being lead in a different direction. This week, due to unforeseen circumstances (well, at least unforeseen by me), I knew it was time to let go. Last week, I resigned from teaching knowing that if I ever step return to a classroom, it will be as a volunteer, and eventually, maybe as a sub. This decision was difficult for me, but yet, I have been given a peace that surpasses my rationale.

     Leaving my job plummets our family well below our current mean and style of living. For that matter, it leaves us living below what society calls the "poverty level." It leaves us without health insurance, dental, or vision insurance. This, in itself, is going to require us to shift our thought process and learn to depend on God more than ever. But you see, financially, we may be broke and eating ramen noodles for a bit, but spiritually, we are beyond rich. I know that God will reward our obedience as long as we keep our eyes focused on Him. I know that for the next nine months, I have been given the most amazing gifts--the gift of being a mom. For the first time in my chldren's lives, I will be able to volunteer at their schools, have a lunch date with them, help them. The gift of being able to serve others. For this short time, I will be more readily available to help my aunt as she battles cancer. For the first time, in a long time, I may even try to cook meals. You are right, no need to get carried away.

       I will miss some of my amazing colleagues, Opening Day (which was really more about seeing past colleagues than anything else), and giving my boss a hard time. I will miss my students' faces and the feeling of watching them succeed. I will even miss writing IEP's, believe it or not. (No worries, I won't miss testing, or evaluations). I will miss the daily interactions with students that aren't in my classroom but have come to know. I will miss the smell of school supplies, the shiny floors of a freshly redone hallway.

        This morning in the sanctuary, surrounded by my church family, I found myself singing my prayer, praise, and promise..."step by step You lead me, and I will follow you with all of my heart!"

thoughts and tidbits

I don't write anymore. I should, but I don't. I think of what I could write each night, plan it out in my head, think of the lesson behind my thoughts, but then I tuck it away, and eventually it quietly slips from my memory without even being noticed. That scares me. It scares me to think that as my age increases and my stress level rises, that I become more forgetful. This is a family trait, it is inevitable. So today I will write. I started this blog to record my experience in Uganda. It seems odd to me that three years ago I went to Africa. It is almost surreal, like a picture swimming in a vast array of images in my brain. Lessons and emotions, still, at times seem as fresh as the day they occurred.

But so much has happened. I am not the same as I was when I went. I am not the same as I was last week, nor do I ever want to be the same. In the past couple of years, I experienced a severe bout with depression that I wasn't sure I would be able to overcome it. I dropped out of the Masters program, lost some friends, became more introverted, gained a billion pounds trying to find the right combination that would allow me to get out of bed in the morning and breathe through my day. In the end, what I needed was to pull my own boot straps and allow God to show me what direction to go.I needed to realize that I was human, and the only thing there is to help me is faith. In November, I changed jobs. I did not realize I needed to change jobs, but now, I realize how desperately I needed this change. I was burned out, stagnate. Changing jobs, brought me back to the field of professionalism, and for the first time in a long time, I found myself in love with my job.

 In November, I discovered we were expecting for the fourth time. But, not in an ordinary way. We were expecting our family to grow with the addition of a sixteen year old boy. I have the say the labor and recovery was wonderful! A quick, "he's all yours!" and suddenly we were a family of five...well, six. It has taken some getting used to, things are more cramped, laundry piles higher, but our family feels good. He fits. He belongs to us, with us. He is our son. While we know there are more obstacles ahead, he is worth it. He is worth every loss of words, every "what now" and every "how do we..." I wouldn't have it any other way. In July, he became a permanent member of our family. I am not sure if he understand the repercussions of being stuck with us forever, but we definitely understood what it meant for us.

 It was the day he became ours. The day we were to be happy and to celebrate that he as a permanent part of our family. Our life changed. I changed. We all changed. It as a simple text from my cousin, "call me when you can." I dialed, happy to talk to her and because we were going to close a crazy chapter. She didn't answer the phone. Shortly after, she returned my call. "WE are in Dayton, at Miami Valley. They found a tumor on mom's brain. They will operate tomorrow...it is cancer." It is cancer. It is cancer. It is cancer. Suddenly court did not matter, what we were doing afterward did not matter. My mind only heard one sentence...it is cancer. Surgery went as well as to be expected, and like expected, it was cancer. Glioblastoma stage four...terminal...

My aunt did not take this news with surrender and acceptance. Her response...death isn't an option. So a week after brain surgery, she was doing payroll from her house. With radiation and chemo causing her to take brief time outs each week, she continues to live her life like today is her last... never taking for granted that tomorrow will be there. Making sure we know her love. With this diagnosis, my perspective changed. My goal is to be able to stop and enjoy. To realize what a short time we all have . That it is a choice as to what we see. Little accomplishments can be celebrated in the same manner as major accomplishments. Little things can be insignificant in the scheme of the bigger picture. And at times, perhaps I need to remember this a little more.

 So this brings me to why I decided to peck the keys tonight... Perspective is my key word this year. Perspective. There is always a choice in how things are seen and processed. Tonight I was driving to get the kids from bible study when I noticed a giant, almost full moon. Right away this sent my mind reeling as to what it meant for me at work tomorrow. Anyone who works with kids will tell you there is definitely a correlation between the moon and the moods of children. While thinking of the battles that haven't even occurred and have no guarantee of occurring, I glanced into my rear view mirror. I was awed by the amazing sunset. But, I had almost missed it. I had almost missed the magnificence of God's handiwork, worrying over something I cannot control. I needed the perspective check. God gives me these little reminders that I need to bring myself back into check, and for this I am grateful. God gives each of us these little reminders that we have a choice in what we chose to see. I am so glad that God is patient with me and gives me several opportunities to learn even the simplest of lessons.

Sixth Months Later....

My sophomore year in college, I went to a missionary conference over the Christmas Break with several other students from Bluffton. I was a new Christian and in love with only Him. The conference changed my life. I knew at the age of 18 that my goal was to serve Christ with all I had. Worshiping with 18,000+ believers, and sharing in communion at midnight on New's Years Day was very powerful. I remember coming back from the conference high on the mountain top, ready to serve. Yet, some how between that conference in 1994 and 2008, I lost that feeling and forgot what my ultimate goal was. I forgot what it was to put God first and my desire to serve only Him. Somehow, I had strayed. Maybe it was the time factor,the choices I made, life circumstances, or perhaps a little of everything. Regardless of how it happened, in 2008 I began to realize, I was no where near who I wanted to be and my relationship with God was less than I ever imagined it would be. I began slowly finding God and the relationship with Him that I had lost. When I began attending Liberty, God began moving in a mighty way.

Sixth months ago, I was in Africa. When I was asked, I really had no idea why I was asked or why God would want me to go. I had nothing to offer anyone, or so I thought. My experience in Africa, like that of the missionary conference was life altering. Unlike the conference, I did not come back on the mountain top high (I came back exhausted beyond belief! :~)) I came back with the understanding that God was wanting more of me, and I wanted more of Him.

I learned a lot from the women and children that we met. I don't think that is how it was supposed to work. I thought I was going to Uganda to serve them, not to be served by them. What a surprise God had in store for me! To be given so much, to be shown such unconditional love and gratitude was powerful. To see people making sacrifices for me, when I knew it was all they had, was humbling. They didn't ask me if I deserved their welcome or their acceptance, they gave it freely.

People have asked me several times what it was like to be in Africa with those that have "so little," betting I saw things I could never have imagined. They are right in some sense. Maybe they had very little by our western, materialistic standard. But for those who had found Jesus, they were wealthier than anyone I have ever met. As for seeing things I never imagined, you bet! I saw a woman give up her only chicken in gratitude for us coming to visit her. I saw proud moms showing off their children. I saw children with clothes that didn't fit, with extended bellies, playing with bottle caps, with the greatest smiles one could ever imagine. I saw Jesus in each of them.

Since returning from Africa, I have sought God with a renewed passion. I have read, prayed, and studied. My goal is to allow Him to work through me and in me, all for His glory. Life has not gotten easier since my trip to Africa. If anything, things have been tougher. Some days I can focus on Him, and other days I need a reminder that His plan is far greater than I can understand. Many times, it is on these days that I run across a teaspoon laying in the strangest places (Read "The Teaspoon" if this doesn't make sense to you! ). I used to pick them up, throw them in the sink. and wonder why in the world the kids were playing with the teaspoons and why they were all over the house. Now, I stop, smile, and thank God for the reminder. He continues to show me his mercy and love, I just need to remember to slow down and allow Him the chance.

Africa changed me, but not in the way I thought it would. It changed my perspective. It changed my desires and goals. He continues to show me that the secret to my contentment is to trust in Him for the strength I need in each and every situation (Philippians 4:12-13)! I'm not the greatest or strongest in my faith. Sometimes,I have hard time trusting that He has a greater plan and allowing Him to work, but I do know one thing, and to this I will cling, "I belong to Jesus!"

done............well, almost

The last day of school for my students is tomorrow. I will be quite honest in saying I am NOT sad about this! :-)This year has been an emotional roller coaster for me. Two different bosses, staff relation problems, unethical behaviors, students that were beyond my realm of ability to help...these are just a few things that affected my year. I filed my first workman's comp claim this year...after nine years of working with students with emotional disturbances and thirteen years of teaching. Had a SCREAMING fight with my boss in the middle of a hallway (Not quite my style) It was not a good year. Well, until I started thinking about it and realized it depended on my perspective. I needed to change how I was looking at this year. When I changed my perspective, this was by far the best year that I have had with my students. I have seen amazing progress this year. I have had the privilege of watching how God moves and changes eight students. Yep, I said God, and yep, I teach in the public schools. God is awesome, He doesn't care about "keeping religion out of school" rule. I don't preach to my kids, I don't have to, God works in other ways. I had an amazing staff that were true examples of living one's faith. This year I also had the privilege of having my husband work with me in my classroom. This provided a different atmosphere than ever before. Between Rick being there, myself, and the ladies who work in my room, a family atmosphere emerged.

At the end of the year, we spend a significant amount of time cleaning. Since supplies are very limited, we reuse everything we can. While cleaning out notebooks, we ran across a journal entry written in March by the student I affectionately nicknamed "Big Guy" this year. This is what he said...

If my life was perfect, I would be in Africa, not Ohio. I would have nice clothes and shoes. My family would have a cookout without fighting. Mr. Wilson and I would hang out all day, every day.

Yesterday, there was a knock on my door. When I went to open it, there was a student I had two years ago standing there. In a fashion true to his personality, he announced his arrival and visited for ten minutes before announcing he must leave. He is doing well he said. Done with "being a bad kid." He had grown at least a foot since I had seen him last. Yesterday when he left, I knew he would be okay. He had found what he needed to be okay with himself and with his place in the world.

I can't...won't take credit for any kid's behavior changes, I am honored that God chose to use me to touch these kids lives. And I am blessed to be given such huge gifts of seeing how they are transformed...

I don't know what next year holds...but I am okay with that because I know that God already has it planned down to the finest detail. No matter where or what it is, I will do my job to the best of my abilit, and I will remain faithful that it is all for God's glory.

Lesson Learned

I will be honest, things have been a little crazy, and not so good lately. I know that with every great experience in which God is glorified, Satan does his best to attack and tear one down. This has been evident in almost every area of my life over the past few weeks. From struggles at work to struggles at home. But today was different.

I woke up and hour and a half late to discover I should have already left for work, but neglected to set my alarm. So after a quick shower,I ran out the door, knowing I did not take time to seek God and to be with Him, as I usually do. I remember thinking on my way to work that this was not the best decision! But,God had other plans.

If for some reason you don't know what I do each day...I teach...well, that might not be accurate. I have a classroom of 8 junior high age students that have some type of severe emotional disturbance. I really feel that my job isn't always about teaching what the state standards say, but instead my job is about providing stability and emotional support. Some days I get to teach a real lesson or two,and other days I am lucky to get through "How was your evening" without a major crisis.
As the day began to unfold, everything around me crumbled. The secretary was out, the teacher next door was taken to the hospital when her back went out, lunches were not accurate ( a long story in itself), but yet none of that mattered today. Instead, God gave me a gift, a lesson...

A few weeks ago, a new student arrived in my class. This kid is unlike any I have ever had in my class. Today, I had the chance to sit and work with him. As I did, Brandon Heath's song "Love Never Fails" played over and over in my head. I watched this student's eyes sparkle as he told me stories and as he caught on to what he was learning. If I didn't know his story, and hadn't witnessed the other side for myself, I would have thought he was a typical teen. After this time, I also had to meet with his family. As I listened to their story, my thoughts were on how their love never fails this child and how through their love, they have such hope for him. As the grandmother said to me through tears,"Tell me what I need to do. What more can I do to help him?" All I could say was, "You are doing it. Be there for him." I wish I could answer their questions and tell them the magical formula to change this. But I can't. Instead,I have the promise of a God who loves us and will never fail us.

When I finally had a chance to sit down today and just watch my students, I realized that I am their student and they are teaching me. I thought of the verse, "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8, NIV). I have never thought of this verse as it pertains to all relationships in my life or even to my job. But watching my students today, I realized that this is what God was calling me to do right now. Love each and everyone as he does...patiently, with hope, with a clean slate each and every minute. Why? Because this is how He loves me, and this is what it means to follow Him.

Tegatatoo

While in Africa, we were able to visit an IDP camp. IDP stands for Internally Displaced Persons. These camps were established during the civil war that lasted for twenty-three years. When people were forced from their village, they found refuge in these camps. Since the war is now over, these camps are being destroyed and people are being forced to return to their native villages. Sounds simple, right? Well, then one has to throw in the factors of most people have been born and raised in these camps, most do not have a savings account that will allow them to relocate and take care of their needs, there are no real estate brokers to show them the latest hut that just came on the market, and most do not have any means of transportation besides their two feet. A little more complicated than a move in the U.S..
But that isn't what we were there to experience. We went to the camp with another ministry called Every Child Ministries. As we were driving down the dirt road, we pulled off next to a large tree. They explained it was their prayer tree and it was their custom to stop and pray before going any further. After a moment of prayer together, we traveled to a rectangular hut. The hut was larger than the round huts, had no walls, just a grass roof. Inside their were four split logs for people to sit on. This was the Baptist Church. (Sorry, I can't remember the real name of the church). Someone was sent to get the straw mats for us to sit on. As soon as we arrived, the women and children began showing up. Children from the local school filled half the church to eat their lunch of rice and beans. The pastor took time to share a message with the women who had gathered to greet us. Many of the women stood up and told their stories. Some made the comment, that although they had not committed their life to Christ yet, they planned to do so as soon as things were perfect. Mama Miriam jumped on this opportunity and she shared with the women that there is no such thing as perfect that the time is right now. She shared the parable of the soils and what soil did the women want to be like. Three women gave their lives to Christ that day...Heaven rejoiced.


As with Kasubi, I found that the women were proud. They were proud of what they had, of their children, and of who they were. I had seen a young mother come into the hut with a tiny baby that looked like a newborn. She saw me watching her, she smiled, and motioned for a little girl to come to her. This little girl, who we later learned was six years old, then proceeded to bring me this tiny baby. I still don't know if it was a boy or a girl. But I dubbed him "Baby Wilson" and was instantly in love with his big brown eyes that seemed to take in my every move and understand my every word. He could not have weighed five pounds, but he was so alert. I found out later that he was a month old. I loved holding this little guy, talking to him, and loving him. His mom watched my moves and by her facial expression, I could tell she was proud of her baby and was pleased that I loved him so.
We met a little girl that stayed by Cindy's side the entire time we were there. I can't remember her name, except that it started with an "I." She brought Baby Wilson over to me and then stayed. She was fascinated with Cindy's hair and brushed her hands through it. She touched my tattoo, and took in our every move. She had a sore on her foot that looked horrid, but she didn't complain. She had an open wound filled with flies, but never winced when it was cleaned with a wet wipe and put a band-aid on it.
After all the school children were fed, bowls filled with rice and beans were placed in front of each of us. They fed us first, and then the women that had gathered shared what was left. As if the meal was not enough, suddenly a covered tray was brought out. Soda...in the middle of no where, we were served Coke. Having nothing but water with us, we offered the women the new water bottles that we had. We quickly realized that this was a bigger treat than the soda. They began handing the bottles back for someone to take off the safety seals. They didn't know how. Something so basic, a simple water bottle was a bigger gift than we could imagine.

Cindy took an empty water bottle and poured some of her soda in it for the little girl. As she took a sip, we were pretty sure it was her first taste of soda ever. Her eyes grew big and immediately her facial expression showed she liked it. She drank and would motion for more. We, of course obliged. I took pictures to show her that her tongue was orange like the soda. Cindy began singing with her, teaching her our favorite new song, "I belong to Jesus."
We went on a walk through the village. Seeing the huts that had been destroyed, the local market, and of course the people. The children flocked. They posed for the camera, grabbed our hands to walk with us, and laughed. So happy, with so little. As we walked, I realized the little girl who had been walking hand in hand with Cindy, was now taking her water bottle of soda and giving all the little children sips of her treasure. She could have kept it to herself. She only had an ounce or two in the bottle, but she chose to give it away.
As we ended our walk through the village, we were invited into a hut. There a woman, Naomi, had prepared a feast for us. We entered her hut and found chairs placed neatly in a circle around a little table and then food was placed on the table. The meal consisted of boiled potatoes and some type of warm peanut mush. (I will be honest and tell you that I was thanking God for the lack of light in the hut, while praying to survive the situation.) The visitors ate and the locals watched. Then came another round of soda. Now, looking around the hut, I realized there was nothing else there, no other furniture, no bed, no storage of food (besides the gigantic bag of rice). There was, however,a toothbrush and toothpaste tucked into the grass of the roof! We thought we had been given so much, then Naomi brought in her only chicken and presented it to Bill. Her ONLY live chicken.

Before we left, the women sang and praised God. It didn't matter that I did not know the words of the songs, I knew the message behind it. We left camp that evening with a rooster and a chicken that had been gifted to us and to Every Child Ministries. We name the chicken Fluffy Mc Nugget and left it at the Zion Project, thanking God it was too late for Mama Miriam to fix fried chicken that evening!

I think about my experience atTegatatoo a lot. I learned something there from the women who by American standards had so little, but gave us everything. They had no idea who we were, but they welcomed us. They trusted us with their children and their stories. They invited us to be part of their life. They loved us without asking for anything in return. Then when we thought they had given us all they had, they reached deeper and gave us more. I pray that I can learn to live and to love as freely as these women. I pray that I can trust in Jesus with my entire life, giving Him my all, without asking for anything in return. No holding back...all to Jesus, my blessed Savior.

Blessed

Yesterday I was sharing my pictures of Africa with a family member. As I scrolled through quickly, I realized that they really weren’t that interested. Maybe because there are so many! Afterward, he made the comment, “So you had good time?” I said "I was blessed" He answered, “Well good, I thought you would get over there and hate it.” I have thought about this conversation a few times and realized how funny it is to me. Maybe because right now, I feel it is the opposite. I didn’t hate Gulu, the people, the culture, the food (okay, the peanut mush and the meat are not on my list of favorites), the lifestyle; instead I fell in love. I fell in love with the people and the culture.
I didn’t hate Africa, I hated leaving. I hated returning to a materialistic, status driven, competitive society that has forgotten how to slow down and enjoy. I didn’t go to Africa to have a good time, I went to follow God. I can’t think of too many people that would consider being drenched in sweat and living without electricity a “good time”…Oh wait, I do, but I call it camping! I went to Africa to be obedient to God’s call, and in return I have been blessed beyond measure (and I did have a good time because of His blessings?.)
I can't believe that it has been almost a month since we left for Africa. Since returning home, things haven’t changed or slowed down, just because my perspective has changed. I realize that if I want it to change, I have to be the change for others to follow. I have to be the example and make the change happen. This is so much easier said than done. I have to learn to be on my knees more seeking God's guidance to what He wants me to change in my life, and then follow.
A few weeks before leaving for Africa, I heard a sermon about what did one want to leave behind as their legacy. I have wrestled with this for almost two months now. I don’t want my legacy to be of earthly matters. I want my legacy to be my faith and my obedience to God’s calling. I want my legacy to be of the treasures I have stored up in heaven, not here on earth. So I as I seek God's will for what and where I am to go next, I hold to the promise that God has great plans!